It's Not Easy
by Mapgirl
Summary: Moving on is never easy, especially when you're still in love.


AN: Never thought I'd write a songfic, but here it is. "Easy" by Rascal Flatts featuring Natasha Bedingfield. I don't own the rights to either song or show; I'm just using them for a moment.

Song is in italics.

Tony slouched into his leather recliner, mindlessly watching a college basketball game on the TV. Cold pizza congealed in its box on the coffee table, and an untouched beer sat warming beside it. It was Friday night after another grueling workweek, and he had absolutely no desire to do anything. The team wasn't on call this weekend, and he halfheartedly thought of what he might do to pass the time. A low buzzing brought him out of his reverie, and he looked over to see his cell vibrating on the coffee table.

"DiNozzo"

"Hey man, you've got 20 minutes to get ready. Not taking no for an answer this weekend. You've got to get back on the horse before your nads fall off."

"Nice Steve, real classy. I'm not going out, so turn around and head home."

"Come on Tony. It's been a month. You spend almost every night hibernating in your apartment; except for the few times I've managed to drag you out. You're going tonight if I have to tie you up and drag you."

Tony sighed and debated if it was worth the fight. His buddy Steve could be both persistent and whiny when trying to get his own way, and frankly, Tony didn't have it in him to argue tonight.

"Fine." He didn't bother with a goodbye, just disconnected the call and dropped the phone back to the table. Standing up, he sniffed under his arms and decided a shower was in order if he was going out. Ten minutes later, he stood in front of his closet, and debated his choices. He knew very well that the clothes you wore told as much of a story as the mask on your face, and he debated what look he would go for that night. Steve would ride him if he went too casual, but he also didn't want to give off a lookin' to hook up vibe. Something that said night out with the buddies. He finally chose a pair of dark wash jeans and a mossy button down that brought out the green in his hazel eyes. A few minutes later and he was ready to go when Steve phoned from his car to say he was outside.

After loping down the stairs, he made his way in the cool fall air to Steve's Subaru (mental eye roll at the family car – how did he ever get chicks with that thing), and slid into the passenger seat. "Where are you forcing me to go tonight?" he said as a greeting.

"Vibe. Good live band playing at 11."

They were mostly silent as Steve navigated through the streets of D.C. to the bar; occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something the sports talk radio commentators were saying. After parking, they walked the remaining couple of blocks to the club, only to see a line already formed. "Better be a damn good band Steve," Tony grumbled as they took their place. Fortunately, the line moved fairly quickly and they were soon inside, pushing their way to the bar. After getting their drinks, they wandered over to the edge of the dance floor.

Scanning the crowd, Steve uttered a soft expletive. "Shit man, I'm sorry." Tony looked questioningly at his friend, and then with a sinking feeling in his gut, turned to see what had caught his attention. Over on the other side of the dance floor a group of boisterous women were writhing to the beat, one tall raven-haired beauty standing out from her friends. Abby. Damn, she looked good tonight. Tony's stomach clenched, and he carefully slipped a mask of nonchalance onto his face.

"No worries man. I'm fine. It's fine. I see her every day at work. We're cool." The lies rolled off his tongue as he desperately tracked her movements with shuttered eyes. No way was he going to show how much seeing her out like this, looking so carefree and happy, knifed him in the gut. They'd stay, listen to the band, and he'd have a great time (or look like he was anyway), even if it killed him. Maybe he'd even look for a girl tonight. One who definitely didn't have jet-black hair, tattoos, or a gravelly voice that could heat his blood with just a whisper.

_We broke up, yeah it's tough, most guys would've been crushed_

_Wastin' their time wonderin' where they went wrong_

_No way, not me hey I'm doin' just fine_

_I'm not afraid of movin' on, it's_

_Easy...goin' out on Friday nights_

_Easy...every time I see her out_

_I can smile, live it up the way a single guy does_

_But what she, what she don't know_

_Is how hard it is to make it look so _

_Easy_

Abby's head ached. The effort of putting on a happy face while dancing with her friends was draining, and all she wanted was to go home, put on her smiley-skull jammies and curl up on the couch with Bert, a pint of Chunky Monkey, and a sappy chick flick. She so regretted letting Carol talk her into coming out tonight. As she spun around, her gaze flickered over the crowd, coming to a sudden and jarring halt on an all too familiar form. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. She couldn't take this. It was hard enough to get through the workday, when they slid on their professional masks and fell into the polite conversation (always work-related) of co-workers. She really didn't want him to catch her with her defenses down, to see the sadness and longing in her eyes. She rapidly turned from away him, and stiffened her resolve.

_The truth is I miss lyin' in those arms of his_

_But I don't ever let it show_

_I laugh and I act like I'm havin' the time of my life_

_As far as he knows, it's_

_Easy...goin' out on a Friday night_

_Easy...every time I see him out_

_I can smile, live it up the way a single girl does_

_But what he, what he don't know_

_Is how hard it is to make it look so _

_Easy_

_Oh it's easy_

Pasting another false grin on her slightly-paler-than-before face, Abby caught Carol's attention. "I think I need another drink, wanna hit the bar?" She could do this. She could muster up enough smiles to make it through at least one set of the band, and then maybe she could escape without it being too obvious. The DJ would only be on for another 10-15 minutes, and the band was already set up, so they should be starting on time. She could do this. She and Carol forced their way to the bar through the crowd, and ordered – Red Bull and vodka for Abby and a whiskey sour for Carol. Suddenly, getting a little drunk sounded like a very good thing to Abby, so she immediately pounded back her drink and signaled to the bartender for a refill.

"Um, Abbs? What's up? You never drink like that." Carol looked at her with an odd combination of concern and amazement on her face.

'Tony's here," was all Abby needed to say for Carol to immediately pull her into a hug.

"Wanna take off?

"No. I've got to get past this. I can't keep avoiding him, we hang out at too many of the same places." She tried to work a smile onto her face. "Let's go find the others and dance some more. It'll be fun!" She wondered if Carol was at all fooled by her forced enthusiasm.

Working their way back to the dance floor, she was suddenly jostled into a hard body. Looking up, she steeled her resolve, and smiled.

"Hey Steve, sorry about that. Crowd's a little pushy tonight. Hey Tony."

"No worries Abby. It's to be expected in a bar. Ready for the band?"

As she tried to focus on Steve's words, she couldn't help but stare at Tony. He looked good. She bought him that shirt for his last birthday. It did such nice things to his eyes. As she glanced over his face, she nearly missed the yearning look of desire he quickly tampered down. Anybody else would have just seen the casual indifference he projected, but she knew him too well. Knew his ability to conceal his emotions, bury them so deep inside he would shatter before he let them rise to the surface again.

Tony could feel her eyes searching his soul. Damn her. She looked like she was having a great time. Chatting with Steve, sipping her drink. Anyone less versed in her million-and-one moods would have been fooled by the laughter and the smile. But he could see how it verged on the edge of brittle, how her fingers clenched the glass a little too tightly. There was that tiny crease between her eyebrows that told him she was fighting a stress headache, and the little twitch in her left eye that said she was on the brink of tears.

Slowly, both Steve and Carol realized that their mutual friends were lost in a whole other world to them, immersed in a silent conversation.

"I still want you."

"I miss you so much."

"What are we doing?"

"How did we ever let it end this way?"

"I can't sleep at night."

"I'm so lonely without you."

"All the problems are still there."

"You still don't want what I need."

"I can't go through that hurt again."

"I don't want to end up hating you."

"I think I'm always going to love you."

Abby broke the stare first, blinking as she tried to keep the tears from her eyes. "It's been good to see you Steve. See you Monday, Tony. Let's get back to the dance floor Carol, the bands about to start."

She pushed off through the crowd, as Tony took a deep breath. Nobody ever said moving on was easy.

_Oh it's easy...goin' out on a Friday night_

_Oh it's easy...every time I see him out_

_I can smile_

_Live it up_

_Forget about the way it was_

_But what she_

_Oh but what he don't know_

_What she don't know _

_Is how hard it is to make it look so...easy_

_Looks so easy_


End file.
